"You have no right to do this! It is perfectly——" stormed the other.
"Take them away!" interrupted the judge.
"I'll have my revenge!" foamed M. Merivel, in a voice that made the chairs tremble, as the gendarmes laid hold of him.
"Shut your mouth, you d——d idiot!" roared the other.
"I'll write to the papers! I'll——" And struggling, and threatening, cursing the court and each other, they were dragged off to be held on charges of perjury, while the crowd hissed them out. And this, it may be remarked here, ended their long careers of crookedness. Merivel was convicted of perjury, but the case against the senior partner could not be made to hold. Merivel was so enraged when the other was acquitted that he turned State's evidence and gave M. Valmorin the history of some of Perissard's "deals," with the result that both were sent to prison for long terms.
When the excitement attending the exit of the pair had subsided the President made one last appeal to the prisoner before giving the case to the jury.
"Woman Laroque," he said, gently, with a slight hesitation at the name, "have you anything to say in your defense? Tell the truth and the whole truth!"
To his astonishment, the woman slowly rose. A hush of eager expectancy fell over the room. Looking straight before her into the dead wall she began in a low, uncertain tone.
"My counsel has said all that could be said. I shall never forget his words, and I thank him from my heart!" The voice trembled and stopped.
"He was right!" she went on, unsteadily, her hands tightly clutching the desk as she struggled for control. "I was not naturally bad! A coward broke my life and made me what I have become!"